


Eliot (& Stiles)

by C E Somers (CE_Somers), Laurel_Wolford



Series: Spencer-Hale Pack [3]
Category: Leverage, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Eliot Spencer, Always Female Stiles Stilinski, Angst, BAMF Eliot, BAMF Stiles, Bodyguard Eliot, F/M, Gen, M/M, Medical Procedures, Pack helps run a con, Rich Stiles Stilinski, Sad Memories, Sheriff Stilinski is a Bad Parent, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stiles has style, Super Soldier Stiles, knight in shining armor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2018-10-18 17:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10621251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CE_Somers/pseuds/C%20E%20Somers, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurel_Wolford/pseuds/Laurel_Wolford
Summary: This work will contain one-shots.  They are a semi-retelling of "Voin" from Eliot's point of view.





	1. The Bodyguard Job

**Author's Note:**

> Scenes from "Voin" from Eliot's point of view. If there are any specific scenes you'd like to read, please feel free to let me know. I have asked a friend of mine to write some smut scenes for me (since I am terrible at it), so hopefully at least one of the chapters will contain some "naughty bits."
> 
> Enjoy! And remember that comments make me write faster! :-)  
> ~Laurel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place at the same time as chapter 2 of Voin.

** Eliot **

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the laptop on which the story is typed.

Please leave comments and kudos: they’re my muse!

Spoilers: None in any of the shows in this mash-up.  This fic contains elements and characters from Teen Wolf, Marvel Cinematic Universe, and Leverage.

Summary: Some of the scenes from _Voin_ as told from Eliot’s point of view.

Author’s Note: I picture a shorter version of [Willa Holland](http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1473267/mediaviewer/rm1931384832) as girl!Stiles.

* * *

 

1

Eliot and his team had just taken down Victor Dubenich and Jack Latimer.  It was a decent job, but if he ever saw that idiot Chaos again it would be too soon.  Although, he had to admit, working with Quinn wasn’t bad.  He might even go so far as to say it was nice having another wolf around to watch his and his team’s backs.  But now the team was taking a break and looking for a new city; a new base of operations.  So Eliot was taking an easy side job, to play bodyguard while the client has surgery.

What he was not expecting was the teenager who answered the door to the large house in the preserve.  She was average height with a slim, athletic build.  Her long brown hair flowed down past her shoulder blades.  Her eyes were a bright caramel color.  Her lips were thinner, but plump; her skin covered in a smattering of moles.  

“Mr. Spencer?” The girl interrupted his thoughts.

“Yes,” he smiled just a little.  “Ms. Stilinski?”  He held out his hand for her to shake, she eagerly accepted his firm grasp.  He was surprised at how strong her grip was, so unlike most women he met.  

“Call me Stiles,” she replied, stepping back from the door.  “Please, come in.”  She motioned toward the front room.  Eliot entered the room with her right behind him.  He chose the couch in front of the window simply because he didn’t want to deal with the glare coming in through the large window.  Stiles sat opposite him on the other couch.  

“I have to admit,” Eliot spoke first, once they were both seated.  “You’re not at all what I was expecting.”  Stiles chuckled softly as she leaned back into the couch.

“I’m never what anyone expects,” she replied enigmatically.  Eliot eyed her skeptically for a moment trying to decipher what she meant before he finally smiled.

“I could see that.  You look young, but sound old.  People are usually only comfortable with. . . normal . . . people.”  settled back in his seat getting more comfortable.  “The fact that you’re a teenager with the knowledge and resources that require you to hire someone like me . . . well, you’re not exactly normal.  Are you?”  He smirked at her, knowing that women had a tough time resisting his smirk.

He did not, however, expect her to laugh.  A full belly laugh that sounded like it hadn’t been used in years.  That made him wonder about why it had been so long since she’d allowed herself to laugh at anything.

“No, Mr. Spencer, I’m far from normal,” she answered, her eyes bright with amusement.

“Eliot, please,” he insisted.  “Shall we get down to business?”

“Of course,” she replied.  “We’re burning daylight.” She grinned at him and he offered a small, but genuine, smile in return, somehow delighted at her showing actual happiness.  “I’m scheduled to have surgery in less than twelve hours and I am, frankly put, terrified of being vulnerable while under anesthesia.  Your main duty would be to stand guard, if you will, while I’m in the operating theater and in the recovery room.  Your presence in the O.R. has already been approved by the surgeon.”

“Okay,” he nodded as he took that all in.  “I have a few questions.”  She nodded for him to go ahead.  “Where is this surgery taking place?  What type of surgery?  Why is the surgery taking place so late at night on New Year’s Eve?  Are you expecting any trouble?”  He rattled off his list of questions.  He knew why he had been hired, but this was starting to sound sketchy, especially if it included a teenage girl.

“It is scheduled to start to nine this evening at a small surgical clinic in town.  It’s so late at night because we needed to make sure that no one else would be there.  This particular procedure is to implant a non-FDA approved birth control device in both of my Fallopian tubes.  

“And, no, I’m not actually expecting any trouble.  But I’d rather be paranoid and end up not having needed you there, then to not have you there and something happens while I’m out.  Since the surgeon is willing to take a bribe to implant a non-tested, non-FDA approved device into a teenage girl, then he’s not someone I would willingly trust with my unconscious person,” she answered honestly.

Eliot thought through her answers for a few moments.  “May I ask why you’re willing to have the device implanted if it hasn’t been tested or approved?  It could be dangerous.”  He genuinely concerned for this girl’s welfare even though he’d just met her.  But his wolf had decided that it wanted to protect this girl, even though Eliot had no idea why.

“I designed the device, specifically for my physiology.  So the risk from the device itself is minimal.  It’s more the morally gray medical staff I’m worried about,” she informed him.

“Again, not what I was expecting.”  He gave his most charming smile.

“It’s always a good thing, for me anyway, to be underestimated,” she responded with a sly smile of her own.

“Do you often _need_ to be underestimated?”  He queried.  He wasn’t certain that he liked the fact that this young teenager already knew the value of being underestimated.  What had happened in her life that warranted such knowledge?  Come to think of it, where were the girl’s parents or guardians?

“Women are always underestimated, Eliot, just because we’re female,” was her non-answer.  Somehow he knew that was all he was going to get out of her on the subject so he decided to change his line of questioning.

“Where are your parents? Shouldn’t they be one's watching over you tonight?”  He figured that if she was the one meeting, and hiring, him he likely wasn’t going to like her answer.  But he needed as much information as possible to keep her, and himself, safe.  Not to mention that he was simply curious.

“My mom died when I was eight, and I was emancipated from my father a few months ago,” she informed him.  “I have no guardians anymore.”  Her concise and unemotional response told him that it was deeply emotional and painful.

“I apologize for bringing up any painful memories, but I needed to make sure that everyone was accounted for,” he tried to defuse the tension in the room.  The scent was making his wolf whine.

“I understand,” she told him; and she did.  Her heartbeat indicated that she did understand, but her chemosignals basically yelled that she didn’t like it.

They talked a bit more, with the teen describing in horrifyingly vivid detail what the surgery should entail, before he excused himself to go scope out the clinic for safety and tactical purposes.

He parked on the street and explored the outside for awhile.  He then went in, sat in the waiting room as if he was supposed to be there, then asked the receptionist to point him to the restroom.  Eliot then took that opportunity to wander around the surgical clinic trying to get the lay of the land, so to speak.

But the one thing that was never far from his mind was his client, Stiles.  She was an enigma, wrapped in a mystery, boxed up in a puzzle.  She was young, but was much too mature for her age.  She was emancipated and supporting herself, so how could she not only afford his services, but the large house and the property on which it stood?  Her clothing was expensive and very high end; all of which suggested that she was fairly wealthy.  He supposed that she could’ve inherited it after her mom died, but it didn’t seem that way.  Her attitude toward the house and the attitude toward the topic of her parents were at odds.  So, it was more likely that she was independently wealthy, but that led to the question of how a young teenager could be.

Eliot continued to ponder all of these quandaries and more as he continued to make plans and contingency plans for that evening.  

He stopped into a local diner to grab a late lunch.  His enhanced sense of smell picked up alcohol as soon as he opened the front door.  Whoever it was was clearly intoxicated, based on the strength of the scent.  A quick glance around the diner found that the inebriated person was an on-duty deputy.  Eliot was not impressed.  He sat as far from the uniformed man as possible.  A drunk person with a loaded weapon was never a good combination.

“What can I get ya’?” the waitress asked immediately after setting down a glass of ice water.

“The largest cheese burger and fries you have,” Eliot answered.  He disliked fast food, but it was better than getting something that _should_ taste good and be somewhat healthy, only to have it be disgusting.  At least this way he knew he would be getting a plate full of grease.  “Also, quick question.  Who is that deputy?”  Eliot indicated the man he’d noticed earlier.

The waitress turned to look.  “Oh, that’s Sheriff Stilinski,” she replied, a resigned and somewhat embarrassed lilt to her voice.  “Why?”

“He just looked familiar, but it’s not who I thought it was,” Eliot lied easily.  The waitress nodded, collected his menu, and left to place his order.  

Stilinski.  Eliot knew that name.  It was the last name of the teen who hired him.  The teen who was emancipated from the Sheriff.  A sheriff who was currently drunk while on duty.  Under the smell of alcohol Eliot could scent grief and despair.  It was a sickening combination.  He ended up asking the waitress to box his food so that he could take it to go, the scent was so bad.

But seeing the man that was most likely her father, just added more pieces to the puzzle that was Stiles Stilinski.  Though, what it was about her that made him and his wolf want to solve that puzzle, Eliot had no idea.

*~*~*

Eliot arrived back at the house at exactly eight o’clock that evening.  Stiles was dressed much more casually and comfortably, though he did notice that the clothing was still of higher quality.  As she handed him four labelled envelopes, he decided he’d ask her about her clothing as a way to find out, hopefully, where she got her money.

“You wear a lot of expensive and high-end clothing,” Eliot commented in the best off-handed manner that he could.  Sophie would’ve been proud.

“I find the fact that you know my clothing is high-end fascinating,” she responded in the same tone he did.  He glanced over to her to see her staring back with a slight challenge on her face.  He knew then that if he wanted an answer from her then he would have to answer first.

“I dated a fashion model,” he reluctantly admitted to her.  She nodded her head, indicating that seemed to make sense to her.

“I have a lot of money and not much else to spend it on,” she finally answered.  The two rode the rest of the way in companionable silence.  Though Eliot was disappointed that she didn’t reveal more, while simultaneously impressed that she’d answered without actually giving away any information.  

Eliot decided immediately that he didn’t like the surgeon.  The man was clearly doing this for the money and thought he was God’s gift to humanity.  But Eliot wasn’t an Alpha for nothing.  Even without flashing his red eyes, he was still able to stare the man into submission easily.

Listening to Stiles threaten the man’s paycheck and put him in his place, while placing all power and authority in Eliot’s hands, made the Alpha’s wolf nearly howl with pride at the young girl.  Whatever had happened in her life had clearly taught her to not be a pushover.  However, Eliot knew that he’d have to keep an even closer eye on the surgeon now, just to make sure that the man didn’t do something out of spite.

Soon after Stiles changed into the surgical gown a nurse came in and asked them to follow her.  They were led to a smaller operating theater where Stiles was directed to lay on the table.  It only took a few minutes to get Stiles set up on the operating table and sedated.  He couldn’t help but notice how young and innocent she appeared once she was unconscious.

Eliot begrudgingly handed over the devices to the Surgical Technician. Then he nearly growled at the four medical personnel, “If anything happens to this girl, torn up checks will be the least of your worries.  Do I make myself clear?”  He glared each medical staff member into submission, until they nodded that they understood.  With that done, he took a step back so that he could still see what was going on in the procedure, and see what each person was doing at all times.

There was no way that he was going to let anything happen to his charge.  Not only because he wouldn’t get paid if anything happened to her, but his wolf had decided, no - demanded, that he needed to protect this girl.  She was too smart and too tough for what someone her age should be.  Eliot remembered what it was like to have to grow up too fast, but he had the feeling that this teen has had to grow up even faster than he ever did.

The procedure itself was fairly simple and didn’t take much time at all.  In less than an hour the nurse was wheeling the still sedated Stiles back into the recovery room where she had left her clothes.  The nurse informed Eliot that the average time for the patient to wake up was about thirty minutes. She then excused herself to go back to the O.R. to help tidy up.

Less than ten minutes later Stiles stirred and started to wake up.   _‘She did say that she had a high metabolism and that her body burns through chemicals fast,’_ Eliot thought to himself as the teen opened her eyes.  Although a third of the normal time seemed fast, even to him.  His wolf would burn through it in about five minutes, and this slip of a girl was barely twice that.  He knew for a fact that she wasn’t a werewolf like him, and he hadn’t scented that she was any kind of supernatural being.  So that begged the question, what was she?

“How long?”  Stiles’ voice cracked, throat dry from the anesthesia.

“It’s not even ten o’clock yet,” he told her.  “The procedure took less than an hour and you’ve only been in here for about ten minutes.”  He got out of his chair and wandered to the fountain drink machine and got her a cup of ice water.  “Here,” he said as he came back and handed it to her.

She took as long pull of the water before she responded, “Thank you.  This whole thing took less time than I anticipated.  Were there any problems?”  She asked before she took another sip.

“None,” he told her.  It was the truth, since after he threatened them, everyone had been on their best, most conscientious, behavior.  The two were interrupted from further conversation by a man walking in through the far door.

“My part of the procedure is done and I need to get going,” the anesthesiologist announced.  Eliot glared at him for a moment for his attitude before he turned his head toward the girl reclining on the bed.  She nodded, so Eliot reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the stack of envelopes.  He found the doctor’s name and held it out to him.

Eliot pulled the envelope back at the last second.  “You were never here and this never happened,” Eliot reiterated.  The doctor wore a look of aggravation, but  then nodded and took hold of the again-proffered envelope.  He then quickly exited the same doorway he’d entered.

It was less than five minutes later that the surgeon entered.  The idiot, at least in Eliot’s opinion, seemed caught off guard that Stiles was already conscious.  “You’re awake.”  Eliot raised a very unimpressed eyebrow at the statement.  Dr. Jones quickly composed himself.  “Yes, well, the, uh, procedure went well.  There were no complications.  There are three dissolvable stitches in your lower abdominal muscles, and five external stitches that you’ll need to remove in ten to fourteen days.”  Stiles nodded.  “The nurse and surgical tech agreed to stay until you were up and ready to leave.  This,” he handed a prescription page to Eliot, “is a prescription for Lortab.  Take one pill every four to six hours as needed.  I believe the Walgreen’s pharmacy is open twenty-four hours.”  Everything about his tone was bored and dismissive.

Eliot read over the small piece of paper before he folded it and placed it in his other inside coat pocket.  Then he pulled out the remaining three envelopes and found the surgeon’s.  Just as he did before he pulled it back from the man at the last moment.  

“You were never here and this never happened,” he glared the older man into submission. Which, once again, took a pitifully short time.

“Of course, Mr. Spencer,” Dr. Jones replied, sounding less bored and more put out.  He left with the same lack of fanfare as the previous doctor.  When Eliot turned back around, Stiles was slowly lowering her legs over the side of the bed.  

“Will you hand me my clothes, please?”  Instead of answering, he simply gathered her belongings and placed them on the bed next to her.  He then resumed his position between the door and her, with his back to her to give her some privacy to get dressed.

He heard the clothes moving around and then heard her stand up.  When the sound of her setting her boot-covered foot on the floor reached his ears he turned around.  Without really thinking about it, he picked up her leather jacket out to help her put it on, so that she didn’t strain her wound or stitches.

“Thanks,”’ she said as she turned around to face him.  Eliot was surprised by his own actions.  He had no idea why he’d done that, so he did his best to keep his facial expression neutral. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I need to let the other two know we’re leaving and give them their checks,” he stated.  He separated from her in the hallway just outside the recovery room.  He heard the heartbeats of the two remaining women back in the Operating Room.  Both women startled when he walked through the door.  His wolf preened at the thought that he’d caused their fear; that even now he was still a predator.

He pulled the two envelopes out of his jacket and held them vertically in his hand above the new operating table that had been brought it.

“You were never here and this never happened,” he rumbled and glared at both of them.  When both women quickly nodded enthusiastically he dropped the envelopes on the table.  “She’s awake and we’re leaving now.”  The two women looked at each in surprise and when they turned back toward Eliot he was already back through the door into the hallway.

The ride back to her house was nearly silent, the only conversation was Stiles telling him not to bother with the prescription, which lead him to again question _what_ she was.  No normal human should be able to do what she’d done tonight.

Once back at the house he helped her inside, and assisted her in taking off her jacket, which he then hung in the hall closet for her.

“Are you hungry?”  Stiles asked, which was not what he’d been expecting.  “It’s been twelve hours and I’m finally allowed to eat.”  She grinned at him.  It was so open and innocent that he couldn’t help but offer his own small smile in return.

“You sit, I’ll cook,” he told her as he guided her to a stool at the kitchen island.

“I can cook, ya’ know,” she sulked.  “I may be young, but I can make more than just ramen.”  He chuckled, he couldn’t help it.

“I have no doubt,” he replied honestly.  “But 1) you just had surgery and don’t need to be on your feet, and 2) I like to cook and your kitchen is amazing.”  

After a moment of silence where she was blushing, which he found interesting, she let him know, “I left two steaks marinating in the fridge.”  

Eliot found the steaks which were two huge prime cuts of beef.  Had she planned all along to feed him after the surgery, or had she planned on eating both of these herself?  They were each what he would consider “wolf-sized’ portions.  Another puzzle piece.  

He whipped up a fairly quick and simple meal.  The two held a comfortable conversation throughout the meal, though neither really gave any personal information out.  The more he talked with her the more he was convinced that she was hiding something.  She wasn’t a wolf, but she was something.  And it intrigued the hell out of his wolf.  He decided, or actually his wolf decided and he just went along with it, that he would come back the next day and offer his services to train her how to fight, to protect herself.  If she was . . . whatever she was . . . she may need the skills someday.

He only hoped that she’d take him up on his offer.


	2. Getting to Know the Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place after chapter 2 and during chapter 3 of Voin.

The discussion with Stiles went much easier than Eliot had anticipated.  He had thought that he would need to convince her to let him stay in Beacon Hills to train her, but not only was she on board with the idea, she insisted that he stay at her house so that he wouldn’t incur any additional expense on her behalf.  She’d offered to pay him for his time and expertise, but he flat out refused.  

So it was, they agreed that Eliot would fly back to his home to pack some of his clothing, then drive his truck out to California so that he would have his own transportation.  The week was also for Stiles to heal, even though Eliot  _ knew _ that she didn’t need it.  Not even when she stood up, which should’ve tugged on her stitches and pulled at her abdominal muscles, did she smell like she was in any pain.

When Eliot arrived a week later, Stiles gave him a key to the house and a garage door opener for his truck.  The thing that stood out to him the most was how settled his wolf suddenly became.  He hadn’t even really paid attention to the fact that it had been restless and agitated since he’d left here a week ago.  But now, as soon as he stepped inside the house and caught her scent, it calmed down.  He’d definitely have to figure out why it did that. 

She showed him to the only furnished bedroom, besides her own, which was at the top of the main staircase, directly across from hers.  It was finished in neutral colors with a large queen sized bed against the wall opposite the double doors, with an attached en suite bathroom, and a spacious walk in closet.

After a quick tour of the house, the last room she showed him was on the ground floor, located just under the main staircase.  It could’ve been a bedroom or home office, but Stiles had turned it into a workout room for them to use while the weather was still cold and wet from winter.  It wasn’t huge, but it would certainly do until spring came.  He knew that learning the basics didn’t need as much room as some of the more advanced moves, so the room would suit their needs for now.

Stiles, Eliot came to discover, was beyond smart.  When they weren’t training she was working on her dissertation, which impressed him to no end.  He also found out that she had a wicked sense of humor, which matched his darker humor perfectly.  Within a few weeks, they moved around each other with a grace and ease that most people are only coming into after sharing a space for several years.

The full moon was approaching and he was glad that he would be out of town with his Leverage team.  He wasn’t sure he was ready to be around Stiles during that time just yet, nor was he prepared to tell her his secret.  He still needed to figure out what was going on with his wolf first; he also needed to try to discover exactly  _ what _ Stiles was still.  Eliot had spoken to Hardison a few days before and discovered that the team would now be based out of Portland, Oregon instead of Boston, Massachusetts, so that actually worked out much better for him.

*~*~*

Two weeks later, Eliot was back in Beacon Hills grumbling about the Spruce Goose and idiot CEOs who can’t even tell when they’re actually flying or not.  Stiles couldn’t help but find the entire thing amusing, if her grin was anything to go by.  Once again, Eliot’s wolf settled as soon as he walked into the house.  He really needed to figure out what was going on with that.

Training continued, as well as Stiles working on her dissertation.  According to her she was just about finished.  He had met some intelligent people in his life, but she was hands down the smartest person he’d ever been around.  She was fifteen and almost finished with her doctorate, in Folklore and Mythology of all things.  He found the irony amusing.  But it did make him wonder if she knew more than she let on.  Was she hiding the fact that she was a supernatural being herself?  Did she know that he was?

February continued much the same way that January had; training and Stiles working on her dissertation.  Eliot kept a close eye on her during those training sessions.  She was picking things up extraordinarily fast, which could be attributed to her intelligence; she  _ had _ mentioned in passing once that she had a photographic memory.  But he couldn’t help but think that there was more to it than just that.  Even if her heartbeat and chemo signals say that she’s being honest about just being a quick study.  

He considered himself lucky that Hardison called him in for another job just as the full moon was approaching.  He wasn’t sure he was ready to spend the full moon around her yet. 

Eliot enjoyed this particular job since he got to play the role of a hockey enforcer on a local hockey team.  Which allowed him to expend much of his full moon aggression in a socially acceptable way.  The mark was endangering the lives of his players, but Eliot’s Leverage team finagled it so that the hockey team’s ownership soon changed hands and the original injured player was the new coach and manager.  So, Eliot though that it had all ended well.  

March saw even more training, since Stiles finished her dissertation and sent it off to Oxford to be evaluated.  It was during this time that Eliot’s mind started to mess with him, just as his wolf had.  At first it was just little things that his mind would notice about Stiles; things that his wolf would then whole heartedly agree with.  Like the fact that she never gave up.  Or the fact that her hips curved just so, which would be perfect for childbearing soon.  ‘Damnit!’ he internally yelled at himself.  ‘This is unacceptable; she’s too young.’

As far as Eliot was concerned, the next job couldn’t come soon enough.  Although it did occur to him that as much as he felt uncomfortable with the thoughts his mind and wolf supplied, not once had he ever thought about leaving for any longer than just a single Leverage job.  And he knew that, in and of itself, was probably the most telling thing.

Aliens.  He was on a job with his Leverage team about a guy obsessed with finding aliens.  It wasn’t that Eliot didn’t believe that aliens existed, but he was smart enough to realize that they would be way too advanced to 1) let humans know that they were out there, or 2) be detectable via radio waves.  If a race is capable of interstellar travel, then they are far beyond mere radio waves. 

But Eliot had fun despite himself.  He even stuck around Portland for a few days to hang out with his team.  Not to mention to spend the full moon away from Stiles.

Training during April had stepped up.  Eliot noticed that as he tried out new maneuvers that he hadn’t taught her that she was still able to instinctively counter them.  It wasn’t anything noticeable, but to an experienced fighter like him it spoke of a lot of training that she either wouldn’t admit to, or considering her past, didn’t want to recall the need for.  But you can’t fake instinct; and Stiles had every instinct of a fighter.

Her sixteenth birthday occurred later in the month.  She’d been taking driving lessons through a private company in town, so that on her birthday itself, Eliot drove her to the California State Driver License Division to get her new license.  On the way home she begged him to stop at a local dealership that had a vehicle that she had been wanting.  The genuine smile that she gave him when he finally agreed had his heart actually skip a beat.  He’d never been so glad that she wasn’t a wolf as he was a that moment.  She didn’t respond to the change in his heartbeat in anyway, not even her scent, so he knew that she didn’t have his enhanced hearing.  

The vehicle she picked out, while not his personal style, most definitely fit her personality to a tee; a blue Jeep Wrangler.  The way that she handled the salesman and didn’t take any of his condescending attitude impressed both the human and the wolf within him.  Granted, having him standing in the background helped keep the salesman in check, he was certain, if the tinge of nervousness coming off him whenever he looked toward Eliot’s silently hulking mass a few steps behind Stiles was anything to go by.

Stiles’ birthday was a good day.  She seemed lighter and happier than he could recall her being since he first showed up.  As she pulled out of the dealership in her new Jeep, it was the first time that he looked at her, really looked at her, as more than just the lonely kid that she’d been when he first met her.  For the first time, he noticed that she’d grown up and was now an adult, a woman.  And he wasn’t entirely sure he knew what to do with that.  But if that fact that his wolf was scratching desperately in his head while screaming, “Mate!” at him while she drove away meant anything, Eliot was going to have to come to terms with the fact that the teenaged beauty was his future.


	3. After Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place in the middle of chapter 2 of this story, and just after chapter 2 of Voin.

Tonight had been Stiles’ last night of martial arts class.  Eliot would be back in town within the next day or so, and she didn’t want him to know that she already knew how to defend herself.  She was worried that he’d change his mind about staying, and she was looking forward to having someone around.  

Stiles had changed back into her street  [ clothes ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/581034789396541049/) with her Sambo uniform tucked into her backpack that was secured on her back.  The last thing she did was put the chain of her star pendant over her head as she walked toward the front door of the dojo.  The pendant meant everything to her, so she wore it often. 

_ There was a night not long after her mom’s death that her father had returned home drunk and throwing things.  She’d been in her parents’ room looking through her mom’s things, wanting to feel a little closer to her, when Stiles had heard him slam shut the front door, throw his keys across the room, and stomp up the stairs.  She knew that if he caught her in here he’d probably pay attention to her enough to hurt her, but she wouldn’t make it to her room now, so she dove under the bed.  She curled up as far toward the head of the bed on her mother’s side as she could.   _

_ Stiles had listened as her father swore while he stumbled into the room, removed his uniform, and collapsed on to the bed.  As she lay as still as she could, she looked around under the bed and below the nightstand on her mom’s side.  She saw the corner of a small box covered by the nightstand, and as quietly as she could she pulled it out.  Inside was a star shaped pendant which had diamonds to fill it.  The sticky note on the lid instructed John to give the necklace to Stiles for her 9th birthday.  Her birthday was long gone so Stiles continued to take the star necklace out of the box.  She wrapped it around her neck and it rested peacefully against her lower chest.  Stiles remained still as she remembered her mother always called her “the brightest star of her life”.  A single tear fell down her face and hit the dusty floor.  Stiles stayed hidden under the bed clutching the necklace and pendant until she heard her father’s snores, then she snuck back to her own room. _

As Stiles was leaving her class the sound of three guys whispering about her  _ nice _ backpack and necklace hit her ears, and they began to follow her.  Stiles remembered there was an alleyway a block and a half away, just before her bus stop; so, at the mouth of the alley way, Stiles turned in, walked a few steps, then turned with her back against the side of the building she’d just passed.

Less than thirty seconds later the three guys turned in after her.  They were, understandably, confused that their victim had stopped and made things easy for them.  They all grinned and moved toward her, thinking that they were trapping her against the wall with no escape.  Little did they know that they were walking right into her trap, like a spider moving its prey closer to the center of its web.

“Look,” Stiles sighed out.  She was in no mood to deal with these guys.  “You  _ really _ don’t want to do this.”

“Oh, but we  _ really _ do honey,” thug number one replied sarcastically.

A long, heavy sigh escaped her lips.  “Come on guys.”  She knew that she sounded whiney.  “I’m hot and sweaty and gross.  Please, just go away!”  When they laughed she knew that there would be only one outcome to this encounter.

She was only vaguely surprised when one of them pulled a butterfly knife on her.  When he stepped forward brandishing the three-inch blade, she almost laughed.  Almost.  Until she heard a the scuff of boots at the mouth of the alley.  

“Step away from the girl,” A low voice growled.  

*~*~*

Eliot climbed back into his truck at the gas station.  He’d had a long drive from Boston and was glad to get to stay in a house that only smelled of one person, instead of hotels that smelled of too many other people for him to ever rest comfortably.  

Just as he was about to shut the door he heard a familiar voice from what sounded like a few blocks away.

“Look,” he heard Stiles sigh.  “You really don’t want to do this.”  Do what?  He quickly shut his door, started the engine, and rolled down his window.

“. . . do honey,” he caught the tail end of the response from a guy that sounded too sarcastic and too smug for Eliot’s liking. 

Eliot did his best to pinpoint Stiles’ location using her heartbeat, which he’d memorized while she was under his charge less than a week ago.  

“. . . go away!” To Eliot, her voice sounded more whiny than scared, which only partially surprised him.  He drove past the opening to an alley where he saw her backed against a wall by three men much larger than her, which really didn’t say much for them considering how tiny she was.  Eliot quickly parked the truck next to the alley and made his way in.

He caught the glint of shiny metal as one of the men pulled out a butterfly knife.  Eliot almost tripped as he caught the chemosignals radiating from Stiles - aggravation, annoyance, and what truly startled him, humor.  He’d have to take the time later to figure her out, because right now he had more important things to do.

“Step away from the girl,” Eliot growled.  

The three men turned toward the intruder.   When they saw his menacing stance they began to rethink their plan.  When thug number one walked toward Eliot and swung the blade in his direction, Eliot effortlessly disarmed him and broke his arm.  The loud crack of bone echoed in between the brick and cement buildings.

The sound snapped the other two men out of their stupor.  They both tried to attack Eliot at the same time, but Eliot was much more experienced than they had anticipated.  The two were quickly subdued and knocked unconscious near their still screaming friend.

Eliot hurried over to Stiles to check on her.  “Are you okay?  Did they hurt you?”  He could hear her heartbeat going faster than normal, could smell sweat and adrenaline, but couldn’t scent any blood or injury on her.  Now that he was paying attention, he couldn’t scent any fear on her either.  He was getting more and more curious about the girl the more time he spent in her presence.

“I’m fine,” she chuckled.  “My knight in shining armor showed up to rescue me.”  He stood back as she brushed past him toward the sidewalk.

“You think this is funny?”  He snarled, frustrated at her lack of self-preservation.  “You could’ve been seriously hurt or killed.”  What jogged past her and turned to face her, causing her to stop her momentum.  “What would you’ve done if I hadn’t shown up?  It was three against one and they were armed, Stiles.”  He didn’t know why he was letting himself get so angry about this.

“Scream really loud?”  She snarked back as she shrugged her shoulder then sidestepped around him again.

“This is serious Stiles,” he barked.

Stiles turned and faced the man that had come to her aid and let out a long, heavy sigh.  “I don’t know exactly  _ what _ I would’ve done, but thanks to you I never had to find out.  Now, can we please just go home?”  She sounded so done with everything at the moment that Eliot felt like an ass for yelling at her.  His posture immediately sunk in on itself and he nodded.

He held open the passenger door for her while she climbed in.  It wasn’t that his truck was all that high, it was just that she was that short.  He shut the door once she was settled and as he walked around the front of the haphazardly parked truck a thought occurred to him.

Several minutes into the drive to her house he asked, “What were you doing out tonight anyway?”  

“Tonight was the last night of my class,” she told him.  He found it interesting that she didn’t say what kind of class.  Somehow he knew that she’d evade a direct answer even if he asked, so he let it go.  He’d figure it out sooner or later.  And now that he was going to be living in the same house with her he’d have plenty of time and opportunity.  He just hoped that it wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thank you to CE Somers' daughter for the idea and outfit design for this chapter!!


	4. Stiles' First Night As Pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *CHAPTER 3 HAS BEEN ADDED BEFORE THIS CHAPTER*
> 
>  
> 
> Set just after Stiles becomes a member of Eliot's pack, at the end of chapter 4 of Voin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This amazing chapter, like all smut in this series, was written by the fantastic C E Sommers. Please give her lots of love for her work with this series!

The night Stiles had requested to be part of his pack was the first time he had ever allowed his beast into the bedroom.  He had had other lovers but no one like Stiles. She made his wolf happy, content, proud, territorial, and horny. If he was completely honest with himself, and he needed to be, she made every part excited.  The moment she exposed the tender flesh of her throat to him, was the moment he had given into her as well. 

Eliot’s marks on the skin almost burned her. It burned her from the inside.  Burned deep inside her.  And when he kissed her, she became desperate for him.  

When they arrived to their bedroom, Eliot almost tossed her onto the bed.  “Stiles,” Eliot began in a growl. Struggling to control the wolf. 

Stiles felt the growing desperation that emanated from her Alpha. She knew that this would be very animalistic. She had given her mind to him in becoming part of his pack. Now she would give her body to him.  “El, be my Alpha. Take me like you need to.”

“You must still tell me if I'm too rough with you.” He demanded straddling himself above her.  “If you pick a safe word, I promise to stop when you use it.” 

“Okay, if needed Wojownik will be my word.” Stiles stated her safe word confidently. With that out of the way she grabbed her own button down shirt and ripped it open exposing her breasts covered only by small amounts of lace.  “Eliot now. I need you now.”

He didn't need any more invitation than that. With a flick, her skirt was gone.  Literally shredded into pieces.  Eliot was always careful not to let his wolf have too much control in the bedroom.  But this time was different. This time he allowed it, reveled in it. He was just cognizant enough to not hurt the beauty splayed before him. 

He kissed her, frantically removing his tee as easily as he had removed her skirt. He allowed her to sit up to remove her bra. “I like this one,” he said taking it from her and flinging it across the room.  “Wear more like this,” he growled. She smirked knowing the bra had elicited the reaction she had hoped for.  Then he pressed down on her very dominantly. Feeling her skin on his. He moved his knee between her legs spreading them just enough.  He slid his hand down her cheek and over the marks on her neck. The memory of raking her skin was so fresh and the emotions of its meaning made his eyes spark with the red of his Alpha.  

She bowed under his weight when he continued down and gruffly grabbed her breast. His touch made her long for more, she was excited for what this would be like.  He was in complete control of her. She was surprised how much it turned her on. He continued to surprise her when he plunged fingers inside her. She gasped and shut her eyes. It wasn't painful, but it was definitely a surprise.  

He had rid her of her panties the same way he had rid the rest of their clothing.  And with two fingers inside her he realized she was not ready just yet.  With his fingers still inside her, he moved his face close enough to taste her.  His tongue was wild, licking all around her cliterous. She groaned and grabbed for anything and found the pillow.  His assault on her was so much more intense than anything she felt before.  She felt like she was going to explode.  She tried to wiggle to give herself a moment of reprieve, but he would move with her. He was relentless. Her orgasm came so quick that all she could do was scream out in ecstasy. She grabbed his hair and pulled.  He obliged and looked her in the eyes. She licked his lips tasting herself on him.  Her moan was guttural when he finally slid his cock inside her. There was no going slow, he would take her and claim her as his own.  He allowed only a few thrusts before he pulled out.

“Is something wrong?” her question was barely a whisper.  She was still pulsing from her own orgasm.  

“I need you on your belly; on all fours,” he forced out through clenched teeth.  Without another thought she rolled over and readied herself for him.  He looked at the woman he loved being so submissive and he growled.  The Alpha loved this. He took her hips into his hands and prepared to mount her.  He slid so easily into her.  They both growled with the first thrust.  He took her hard. His wolf so close to the surface that his eyes continued to flash red. His own orgasm grew quickly but he could smell an orgasm growing within his mate.  He could give her more pleasure and get his own. He watched her head waver between being buried in the pillows and stretching toward the ceiling.  When she looked up he could see the marks and hear her pulse.

When he pulled her hair to keep her head high, she called out to him.  And he roared in return. Within moments he released himself into her and she shuddered her orgasm around him.  

Eliot pulsed three more times inside her and then collapsed on her.  The couple breathed heavily for several minutes. As their breathing began to return to normal Stiles moved out from under him to his side and intertwined their legs and arms around each other's naked body.  

“Well, that was so much more than I expected,” she sighed happily.

“I didn't hurt you did I?” He quickly asked; she could tell this weighed heavy mind.  

“I'll be sore, but no my love you didn't hurt me,” she reassured him.  With those few words from her he relaxed, and before she could gather another thought together he was snoring.  She touched the marks on her neck.  He was her Alpha. He had claimed her as his pack and as his mate. The thought pleased her and she fell into a peaceful sleep as well.  


	5. Wedding Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set between the end of Voin and the beginning of Warriors.

Eliot stood on the deck watching the wedding reception dissolve into an all out party. The stoic Alpha couldn’t help but laugh at all the merriment. The dance floor went from hopping around to a loud and boisterous song, to swaying slowly to something romantic. Steve and Bucky, Nat and Peter, Derek and Jane were all enjoying the love song. This was his family. All because of her. Stiles was the most amazing woman he had ever met. Even his wolf couldn’t live without the woman. Thinking of her made him realize she had yet to return from going upstairs to change. He decided to head upstairs to check on her.

*~*

It was her favorite  [ chair, ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/581034789396212271/) her gypsy chair.  A chair that Eliot had learned to love because she loved it so much.  He would never ask her get rid of it even though it didn’t fit with the style of the room anymore.  It was big, and cozy, and fit her just right.  Stiles had found it at an estate sale years ago, right after she finished construction on the house.  The colors were more vibrant and the patterns louder than anything else she owned.  She didn’t know why she bought but now she couldn’t live without it.  The chair is where she now sat nearly naked.  Back resting against one arm with her legs resting on the other arm.  The seat area was long enough and she was short enough, she could almost lay down, but she always sat like this.  Always with her feet dangling off the opposite side from where she rested her back.  She sat this way because she could see out the wall of windows to the amazing view of her land, the pack land.  Right now out the windows she could still see the lights twinkle.  The lights she had wanted strung up all around the yard for her wedding.  

Her wedding! She couldn’t get over it.  Less than eight hours since she had said “I do”.  After the long and extremely fantastic day she needed to put her feet up, if only just for a minute.  So here she was in her chair in her  [ white lace underwear ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/581034789396194643/) .   There was no way she was sitting in that dress, not that she couldn’t sit in her dress.  It was amazingly comfortable, but she was ready to not wear anything for a while.  She had been in it for quite some time already.  She returned the  [ dress ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/581034789396298617/) to the dressmaker's form so it could hang without becoming wrinkled before being sealed and stored.  Who was she kidding?  She hung it so she could stare at it and admire it.  The dress was actually one of the easier parts of the wedding planning.  The only thing easier to plan was the venue: the backyard.  Nat had recommended the designer and stylist she had used at her wedding.  Stiles had planned to use them, but ultimately a simple internet search had yielded the dress now before her.  The only alterations needed were to the beaded straps, and to the length because she was so short. She had been extremely lucky, and was ecstatic with the results.  

Stiles was listening to the lively party still going outside. The reception had technically been over for a while, but since all the guests were staying overnight, at least, there was still a party going on downstairs. The sounds were music to her ears. She had just started to relax when the door opened. 

*~* 

“Mrs. Spencer,” he half whispered. The sound of his voice gave her butterflies.  He closed the door behind him, and removed his tuxedo jacket.  Glancing over to the closets on the other side of the room he sighed and casually slung it over the small half wall instead, the closest thing to his wife that wasn’t the floor.  He stepped up into the sitting room with her, and kneeled next to her chair so he could enjoy the outside view as well when he realized what she was wearing.  The outside view could wait, he needed to admire the view that was right in front of him.  

“You had this on all day?” He was surprised that she had something that sexy on all day. 

He ran his hands from her feet up her tiny ankles, and up her calf.  She giggled as his soft touch tickled her leg.  

“Are you laughing at me?” He questioned with a seductive growl.  

“Maybe,” she answered just as seductively as he had.  

He climbed onto the chair with her and kissed her mouth.  Eliot cradled the back of his wife’s head in his hand and pulled her closer to him.  She sighed into him and he deepened the kiss.  

Allowing his free hand to roam down her shoulders and arms, across her lace covered belly, down and around  the garter belt.  She began to sit up from her lounging position and broke their kiss just long enough to raise one leg over his head, and placed one foot on either side of the chair.  He was now between her legs, still amazed by her flexibility.  He matched her position with a foot on either side of the chair.  She leaned into him and continued to kiss him, her tongue exploring his mouth.  Casually she raised one leg onto his and then the other, and quickly he slid himself as close to her as possible; until she was on his lap completely. She wrapped her legs completely around his waist and gave a little squeeze with her thighs. Eliot reflexively moaned.

His hands now had free range up and down her back and began to unhook each hook. As the last hook came undone, the bustier fell away from her chest exposing her breasts. Eliot smirked satisfactorily, and his hands roamed over her bare back. He continued his hands down her lower back and then down to squeeze her buttocks. As he pinched, Stiles pressed herself into Eliot, and sighed into their kiss. 

Eliot gripped under her hips and moved her off of his lap and set her back onto the chair. Once on the chair, he tried moving the bustier out of the way, but it was attached to her legs. He looked nonplussed, and Stiles chuckled again. He growled again, revealed his claws and cut each elastic garter. Then he dropped the bustier on the floor. He smugly looked at Stiles.  

“Well at least you only ruined the elastics this time,” Stiles jokingly rolled her eyes and sighed at her husband.

Laughing, he tried to sound gruff as he picked up his bride, “You are laughing at me!” Eliot spun her around and plopped back into the chair, again she in his lap again, but he was sitting against the back of the chair now. 

Stiles squirmed free and stood up in front of Eliot. She turned her back to the man. Standing just out of arm's reach, bent over, her ass in air, and started to slowly remove her stockings.

“Damn,” escaped his lips in a low whisper. He scooted into the chair to enjoy the show. His growing erection suddenly throbbed with anticipation. 

As Stiles removed the second stocking, she noticed him trying to quickly unbutton his vest and shirt. She smirked again, and turned to face him in only her lace thong. His hands stopped at the fourth button and he just stared at her, mouth agape. She knelt in front of him and finished unbuttoning his tuxedo vest, then his shirt. She continued her task by unbuttoning his pants, and as she did her hand grazed over the head of his penis and a low moan emanated from his throat. He wanted her hands all over him. He wanted his hands all over her. 

Stiles shimmied his pants and briefs down his hips until his cock was freed. She wrapped her hand firmly around the base and slowly twisted up to his head. Eliot visibly shuddered, and Stiles smiled. She took the tip of his penis in her mouth, and circled her tongue around. Eliot attempted words, but only muffled noise came out. She made him even crazier when she licked from the base to the tip several times quickly. Stiles then suddenly took his whole cock into her mouth, and the deep throated as far as she could. Stiles wondered if with practice she could take all of him into her mouth; if that was something you could learn. It didn’t seem to phase Eliot that she hadn’t quite all of him in her mouth at once. When she looked up at him, the back of his head was resting on the back on the chair, and his hands were gripping tightly onto the arms. He was breathing short, fast breaths, so Stiles did it again. She took his cock into her mouth as far as she could. A little more this time.

It was about a minute later that she felt his hands on her face. She looked up at him, and before she knew what he was going to do she was on her back in chair. One leg over the arm, like she normally would do. The other straight on the chair how most people sit. Eliot was off to one side of the chair between her legs, and his tongue was doing the most amazing things to her clit. She relaxed into him and let him have his way with her. Licking. Sucking. Biting. Her underwear were only a passing thought at this point. Probably ruined by his teeth or claws. He had a habit of doing that. The quick nips of his teeth on her lips and inner thigh made her jump but made her pleasure center build more quickly. Eliot continued to do whatever he was doing between her legs, and she let him, because it felt so wonderful. Her orgasm built quickly and coming fast. Stiles bit her lip in complete pleasure and reached for something, anything to hold onto. She found the back of the chair, she pulled on the chair and arched her back as she orgasmed into his mouth. 

Eliot stopped and let her rest for a moment, then licked her clit once more. Her entire body twitched. All her nerves were working on overdrive now. Her husband stood up, all 5 feet 10 inches of gorgeous male. He wiped his mouth on his shirt as he took it off and tossed it by his jacket. He finished sliding his pants off, and stood naked in front of her. He seemed to do this as slow as he could, but not nearly as slow as she had removed her stockings. Eliot was absolutely phenomenal to look at, but she couldn’t turn away from his eyes just then. Stiles had known the Alpha in their intimacies, and there were times it was strictly Eliot in front of her. But right at this moment she could swear both Eliot and his wolf were looking back at her. She truly loved both sides of Eliot, and accepted him for everything he was and would be. That is what it meant to be Mated. 

So when Eliot laid himself on her, and she allowed him be enveloped inside her; it was like no coupling before. She was very aware of every inch of him. She was aware of how his heart galloped in his chest. His breath on her skin made each tiny hair on her arm stand on end. The sweat droplets that were forming on her forehead, arms and chest. Eliot would bring her to orgasm again quickly because she was so lost in the feeling of it all, not the actions. All of her senses were intensified by his nearness. Suddenly Eliot gasped and quickened, and Stiles could feel his pleasure growing. She gripped harder against her mate and a moan escaped her lips. Stiles thought she had controlled her moan, but the room reverberated with her cry out in pleasure. Eliot unable to control himself howled with her as he reached his climax. They pulsed and throbbed together for several minutes afterward, and neither were able to speak. Instead they just stayed as they were, entwined on her chair and stared out the window at the lights.

An oddly beautiful noise made its way up through the windows. Someone was singing. Many someones. 

“Are they singing?” Stiles asked to her still naked husband.

Chuckling Eliot said, “Yeah.”

“Kind of beautiful, isn’t it?” She commented.

“Oddly,” he added.

“What is it?” She continued.

“It doesn’t matter, they are having as much fun as we are.” Eliot looked his wife up and down, “Okay, almost as much fun as are having.” He kissed Stiles, igniting her passion again. Stiles began to moan into his kiss, and her hands began started to trace up and down his back. 

“Do you need time to recover Little One?” Eliot wondered, though the need was evident in his voice. 

“Only long enough for you to take me to the bed,” she responded. 

Eliot raised his eyebrows at her, “You know I can do this all night.” She answered him by licking his neck and biting his ear. That was enough for Eliot to pick her up and carry her to their bed. The newlyweds stayed there until long after the boisterous party died down. Until after the last star faded in the night sky. Though neither actually saw the sun rise, because they were still rolling around under the covers entwined in each other. The sun was definitely up when they both slept.


	6. Meet the In-Laws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place just after chapter 5 of this story, and during the prologue of Warriors.

Eliot and Stiles had gotten married not quite two weeks ago, so he walked into the back room of the pub in Portland in a less than happy mood, since he’d have to be away from her for the foreseeable future, not to mention the fact that it was a Sunday.  Because of his disgruntlement he hadn’t paid attention to the sounds of the room as he approached.  He stopped in the doorway at the scene of . . . he really hated to use the word chaos, thanks to the idiot hacker that bore that moniker . . . but there wasn’t another word that described the mess in front of him. 

Usually by the time Eliot arrived, the crew was gathered in their version of a briefing room and Hardison was chomping at the bit to start his presentation.  This was not like that.  Everyone was there, but there was mostly arguing and emphatic arm waving.  The computer screens didn’t appear to be powered up.  Nothing in the room gave the impression of a briefing about to start.

“Hey!” he yelled to get everyone’s attention.  His voice caused them all to jump.  “Somebody mind telling me why I hauled ass to get here for a briefing that isn’t ready to start?”  As he crossed his arms he took a deep breath.  “And who the hell just got a cast put on?”

There was a brief pause before anyone spoke.  “How did you know about the cast?” Hardison asked as he lifted his right hand showing off his green plaster cast that supported what was clearly a wrist injury.

“The plaster has a very distinctive scent,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

“The plaster has a scent?  That you can smell all the way on the other side of the room?”  Hardison raised an eyebrow.  Eliot settled more firmly into his stance and raised both of his eyebrows at the injured hacker, not planning to answer him, but clearly expecting Hardison to answer his initial question.

Hardison sighed once he saw Eliot’s ‘damn it Hardison face’, as he’d taken to mentally calling it.  “You know how you’re always saying that one day I’m going to run my mouth at the wrong time and it’s going to get me killed?  Well, you were half right.  I was playing basketball at the park yesterday.  You know, shooting hoops, talking smack, the usual.  Apparently, I insulted the wrong guy’s mamma and I ended up with a broken wrist.”

Eliot couldn’t help the snort that escaped him.  Not that he tried very hard to contain it in the first place.  “Is the fact that you can’t type the reason that the meeting isn’t ready to start?”  

Though he looked unhappy to admit it, Hardison nodded and ducked his head.  “I don’t know what we’re going to do, man.  We already promised the clients that we’d help.  I’ve already done all the background work too.  I just can’t type to be able to get you guys through the con.”  Hardison collapsed on the sofa.  “I feel terrible about this, man.”

Eliot suppressed a grin.  “Let me go make a phone call,” he stated, sounding very serious.  However, as he stepped into the hallway that led back to the public room a sly grin stole across his lips.

“Cobi, put me through to Stiles and secure the call on this side please,” the Alpha said while he continued to walk.  He heard the quiet beep that let him know that he’d been connected.  “Hey Little One,” he greeted.

“Hi sexy,” Stiles responded.  “Miss me already?”  He loved hearing her laugh through the earpiece, it lightened something inside his chest.

“You have no idea,” he told her as he sat at an empty table near the far window from the door he’d just exited.  It was near a camera with a microphone that the crew had installed in the pub, but he knew that Cobi would make it so that his conversation wasn’t heard.  “Speaking of which, how fast can you get up here?”

“Is that a trick question?”  

“Never,” he stated.  “I always want you with me.  But in this case, Hardison broke his wrist yesterday and it’s in a cast.  Which means that he can’t do his job, leaving us short a hacker.  And since I happen to know the best hacker in the world I thought I’d give her a call and see if she wanted to come up and play.”  

“Do I want to know how he broke his wrist?” she teased.  He could hear her moving around, so he guessed that she was heading up to their bedroom to pack.

“Exactly how I always said he would get hurt,” he joked.

“He mouthed off to someone.”  It was more a statement than a question, so he didn’t bother confirming it.

“The guy’s not trained enough in self-defense to be going around insulting a guy’s momma.” Stiles’ laughter was so full and rich that he grinned despite himself.

“Oh, that’s too funny,” she choked out between guffaws.  Once she finally had her breathing back under control she spoke.  “I’ll get changed, packed and have someone fly me up there so we don’t have two of the jets just sitting there.  I’ll let you know when I’m on my way so that you can come pick me up.  Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect, sweetheart.  I’ll see you soon Little One.”

“See you soon, El.”  He loved that nickname from her.  She only used it when they were alone, otherwise she called him Eliot or just plain E.  But El was her secret way to let him know that she loved him; which is the same reason he called her Little One.

Now with a much lighter heart, and a small smile tugging at his lips, he headed back to the rest of the Leverage crew.  Nate looked up as he sauntered in the room.  “I’ve got a hacker on their way.  I’ll leave in about thirty minutes to an hour to go pick them up from the airport.”

Everyone in the room froze at his declaration.  “You just  _ happen _ to know a guy that can drop everything to be here in an hour?  Do they even know what a computer is?”  Eliot was used to Hardison’s dramatics, so he merely rolled his eyes and turned to Nate.

All Nate asked was, “They any good?”

“Very,” was Eliot’s succinct response.

Nate nodded.  “Alright then.”  And that was that.

*~*~*

Forty minutes later, Eliot sat in his air conditioned truck as he waited for Q2 to land.  Once the ramp began to lower he exited his truck and headed toward his wife and her grandfathers.  His breath caught in his throat as she walked down the ramp.  He knew she was gorgeous, and not even just because she was his mate.  But  [ she ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/581034789396676840/) was stunning in her corset top and leather pants, holding a duffel bag in one hand and her laptop case in the other.

“Bye, bye boys!” She hollered over her shoulder to her grandfathers.

“Have fun storming the castle!” Rang from the cockpit.  Watching her toss her head back and laugh was the most beautiful sight he’d seen in . . . well, at least a full day.  It seemed that everything she did took his breath away.  

“I’m so glad I made you two watch that movie,” she called back into the jet as the ramp closed up.  She turned back to face her husband and her face lit up.  “E!”

“Hi Little One,” he took her duffel bag from her and wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her close.  He ducked his head and gave her a toe-curling kiss.  “Did Nat play dress up with you?”  He teased as he held her hand and led her to his truck. 

She bumped her hip into his, “No.”  Then she ducked her head sheepishly.  “The girls did all offer their advice on what I should wear to meet my in-laws, though.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at his mate.  She was just too damned adorable.  “Your in-laws?” He asked as he opened the passenger door for her.  He quickly closed the door then opened the back door and stowed her duffel bag, before hurrying around to the driver’s side to slide in.

“I know that you consider these guys your family,” she answered his question once he was seated in the truck.  “Even if they’re not officially pack, they were the closest thing you ever had to one before us.  Therefore, as your wife, they’re my in-laws.”

He just stared at her for a moment before he smiled and leaned over and kissed her again.  “I love you, Little One,” he whispered against her lips.

“I love you, El,” she responded against his.

He pulled back just slightly.  “Please tell me you brought my ring,” he requested of her.  Her answer was to reach down to her laptop bag, unzip the inner pocket, and pull out his wedding ring.  Stiles took her husband’s left hand in hers and slid the band onto his finger.  She then brought his hand to her lips and placed a tender kiss over his ring.

His heart swelled as his pupils dilated.  His hands lovingly framed her beautiful face and brought her lips in contact with his.  The kiss quickly grew heated before Eliot reluctantly withdrew.  Stiles plunged forward and kissed him again, harder than before. As she kissed him she brought her hand downward until she put it on the pants over his penis. She gave a little squeeze and, like magic, his hardening cock pushed back against her hand.

“Little one,” his voice caught as a growl tried to escape his throat. “Do you really want to? In the truck?” Eliot questioned.

“Absolutely, if we have time,” she answered.

“Oh, we’ll make time,” Eliot grabbed his wife and pulled her onto his lap. She straddled him easily. He kissed her and let his hands roam up her back to her little straps and slid them off of her shoulders. She worked with him to remove her arms from the straps and push her top down enough to expose her breasts. Eliot instinctively scooped a breast into his hand and up to his mouth to caress her nipple. 

Stiles wrapped her arms around his neck and entwined her hands in his hair. Eliot nipped the side of her breast, and quickly Stiles responded with a quick tug to his hair. Her tugging his hair elicited a sharp growl from him; Stiles found his growl very arousing and without realizing it she was pressing her body into him. 

Eliot kissed Stiles on her lips as his hands continued over her body. Stiles slid her hands under his shirt, and she smoothly raised her his shirt over his head. Once his shirt was off, he grabbed her ass and in doing so honked the horn. 

“Maybe we should move this to back seat,” Stiles suggested laughing. While laughed she leaned too far back and honked the horn again. 

“Agreed,” Eliot gruffed opening the door, and turning to step out. He kept one hand under and he easily carried her until he opened the back door, plopped her down in the back seat. Eliot closed the front door and in a moment was crawling into the truck on top of her. Immediately resuming kissing her breasts and up her chest. He let his tongue over each of her pack marks, and placed a quick nip right at her jugular. He could feel her pulse quicken with each passing second, and the growl she let escape was beyond exciting for him. He needed her to growl again. He moved his kisses lower again, and once to her hips he used his teeth to unbutton her leather pants. 

Eliot could smell latex in her pocket, he carefully pulled a condom from her pants, “Why would you have a condom in your pocket?” He asked confused.

“I have missed you, but I wasn’t about to walk around with you dripping down my leg all day,” she responded unabashedly. 

“You really thought of everything,” he added.

“This one really was Nat,” Stiles smirked.

“Remind me to thank her when we get home,” Eliot finished his sentence and scooted her hips around so he had room to kneel on the floor in front of her. He made quick work of her pants, though they were now completely inside out. However seeing there was nothing under her pants made his cock throb in his own jeans. Eliot pushed her knees apart, the sight and smell of her sex almost made him cum right then and there. He licked he from her knee to her center. Eliot parted her lips and began to swirl his tongue around her clit. His desire to hear her growl again was soon satisfied. He easily slipped two fingers inside her as she became even more wet for him. 

“El,” she moaned as her desire intensified.

Eliot sat up and undid his pants and pushed his jeans and boxer-briefs down to his knees. He quickly put the condom on as Stiles watched longingly. As soon as he had unrolled the latex, he pulled himself onto the bench. One knee up and and one knee on the floor. Stiles now laid across the seat below him on her right side. He smiled down at his wife as he lifted her leg over his shoulder. He watched his wife’s face as his cock slid easily into her, and she gasped.

“Okay little one?” He was always worried about hurting her, though he knew by now that was not a gasp of pain.

“More than,” she replied breathily barely able to get the words out as he was thrusting slowly into her again. Her desire was palpable and he returned her desire with a kiss on her mouth bending her completely in half and sliding even deeper inside her. Stiles wrapped her arms around his neck to keep him close feeling his chest pressed against her. Eliot felt his orgasm build with each motion of his hips. Stiles’ heart beat faster, a moan escaping her throat between each thrust. Her moaning grew louder as her orgasm built. Eliot continue to plunge into her.  No longer able to hold in her pleasure; she squeezed Eliot’s shoulders and dug her nails into him. Eliot came into Stiles as her pleasure peaked and the orgasm screamed through her body, curling her toes. 

Eliot collapsed onto her as the shudders continued to roll over them both. Once they had both fully recovered, Eliot pushed up and rolled until he was sitting up on the truck’s back seat. With one more deep breath and sigh, he regained control of all his senses and was able to clean himself up. He leaned down to pull a moist towelette from the front pocket of Stiles’ duffle bag. 

“How did you. . .?” She began to question how he know about the cleaning cloths. Eliot simply pointed at his nose. Stiles nodded, “Of course.”

Stiles noticed Eliot looking around and this time it was her to be able to read his mind. “There’s a ziploc baggie in that pocket as well.”

“Nat?” He asked wondering who had thought of the baggie.

“Clint actually.” Her response elicited a loud guffaw from the Alpha. 

Once they were both cleaned and dressed, they climbed back into the front seat. Eliot utilized the doors, but Stiles climbed over the seats. Eliot loved everything about his wife, from her brains to her body to her playfulness; including when she showed little bits of childishness like this. With one last soft kiss against her welcoming lips, Eliot started the truck, put it into drive, and then headed off back toward the pub and the Leverage crew.

*~*~*

Eliot and Stiles sauntered hand in hand into the back room of the pub where the Leverage crew were, rather loudly, discussing what they thought ‘Eliot’s hacker friend’ would be like.  The husband and wife glanced at each other and smiled knowingly.  Stiles was half a step behind Eliot as they entered the room.  She schooled her facial features so that she didn’t burst out laughing when the group didn’t even notice when they’d come in.

“If you guys are done,” Eliot spoke over the rest of his crew, who all visibly startled at his voice.  Once they’d all turned to face him he continued.  “This is Stiles, the world’s best hacker . . . and my wife.”  

Their reactions were immediate.  Three of them were yelling about Eliot having a wife that they didn’t know about, while Hardison was fuming over the idea that there was a better hacker then him.  Eliot and Stiles stood still while chaos erupted around them.  Stiles held the handles of her black laptop bag in her left hand and Eliot’s hand in her right.  She’d given up trying not to laugh at the situation, so she focused on not doubling over in laughter instead.  Though, based on the eye roll that Eliot directed toward her, she wasn’t succeeding very well.

“Enough,” he growled, the Alpha power bled into his voice.  Though none of them were wolves, the authority and need to comply had everyone instantly stop, especially Stiles who responded immediately to her Alpha and mate.

Seeing that he had everyone’s undivided attention he carried on.  “Hardison, you were the best hacker that I’d ever met until I met her.  She’s hacked into places that you’ve never even dreamed of attempting.

“And, as of just less than two weeks ago, yes, Stiles is my wife,” he stated emphatically.  The glower that he wore kept the others from asking any more questions.

Stiles noticed that Sophie and Parker were checking her out, but Stiles assumed that it was her clothing and not her, per say.  Her guess was proven correct when Parker spoke.

“Ya’ know, your ring is so rare that you almost don’t notice the marks of a werewolf pack on your neck.”  Her delivery of that statement was so off-handed that every person in the room froze.

“Um . . . what?”  Stiles was the first one to regain even a modicum of the ability to form words.

Parker glanced around and noticed that all the occupants of the room were staring at her.  She was instantly uncomfortable as she shrugged.  “Well, the center stone is a fancy dark gray diamond in an emerald cut that looks to be just over two carats, two heart shaped pink diamonds at about a third of a carat each, I’d guess about a third of a carat of baguettes on the sides, and around another third of a carat of pink diamonds around the outside, all rendered in platinum and 18K rose gold.  The ring probably retailed around three-hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars.”

“Really?” Sophie chimed in, sounding intrigued at such an expensive ring in the room. 

“Hold up,” Hardison spoke up, his palms faced outward as he waved off the grifter’s side of the conversation.  “Can we go back to Parker’s first statement?”  He turned to face his girlfriend.  “What did you mean werewolf pack?”

Parker’s lips pursed and her eyebrows drew together in her confusion.  “I meant werewolf pack.”  She didn’t understand what was so difficult about that; she thought it was fairly self-explanatory.

Hardison glanced around the room frantically waiting for someone to start laughing and tell him that it was all a joke, but no one did.  If fact, the looks on Eliot, Stiles, and Nate’s faces were all assessing Parker, but not for insanity like he normally saw on others; instead they looked appraising and even a little impressed.  Sophie was flicking her eyes between Eliot and Stiles, the look on her face showing that she was genuinely surprised about the information, not that the information existed in the first place.  Hardison had a sinking feeling that this was no joke.

He finally pulled himself together enough to speak, “Werewolves aren’t real.”  He really, really hoped that this entire conversation was a pain killer induced hallucination, but he doubted it.  Before Hardison could blink, he was faced with a shifted Eliot, red eyes blazing, fangs sharpened.  Hardison felt like he reacted the way that any normal, sane person would.  He passed the fuck out.


	7. The Leverage Job, staring the Spencer-Hale Pack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set some time in the future.

“Sir, you have an incoming phone call from Nathan Ford,” Cobi informed Eliot as he worked on the pack’s dinner in the main house kitchen.

“Put him through,” Eliot told her.  Eliot waited until he heard the beep in his ear letting him know that call had connected.  “Nate,” the Alpha greeted his friend.

“Eliot,” Nate returned the greeting.  “I wish I was calling with good news.”

Eliot set down the knife so that no matter what the news was he wouldn’t be tempted to break it or throw it.  “That’s not a very reassuring way to start a conversation Nate.”

“It’s not a very reassuring conversation,” Nate bandied.  Eliot heard Nate let out a heavy sigh.  “Victor Dubenich is alive.”

Eliot was now glad that he’d set his favorite knife down.  “That’s impossible.”  Stiles lifted a challenging eyebrow at her husband at his statement.  “Allow me to rephrase,” he bit out.  “That’s a statistical improbability.”  Stiles nodded her head once in satisfaction then went back to working on her newest design on her tablet as she sat at the counter near Eliot.

Nate chuckled at his hitter.  “Improbable yes, but obviously not impossible.  Not only is he alive, but he’s got himself another ‘Latimer’ protecting him.”

“Where?”  Eliot nearly growled.  Victor Dubenich had been a thorn in the side of the Leverage team for far too long.  Eliot was ready to end it, no matter how bloody it got.  The wolves of the pack that were at home heard their senior Alpha growl and came in to check on him.  Stiles motioned for Cobi to let those present, herself included, listen in on the call.

“Silicon Valley,” Nate informed him.  “However, the where is irrelevant at this point.  We don’t have anyone we can use to pull a job on him.  He knows us, and now he knows who we’d use as our backups.”

Stiles waved her hand and got Eliot’s attention, then she pointed to herself then mimed typing on a keyboard.  Remy walked in at that moment and suddenly Eliot had an idea.  “I think I can put together a team that Dubenich will never see coming.”  The feral grin in Eliot’s voice was evident, even over the phone.

“Oh, yeah?” Nate was curious.  “Other than Quinn I didn’t think anyone in your pack was in the game, and we can’t use him for this.”

“Trust me on this one Nate.  The members of my pack that I want to involve can  _ more _ than handle themselves,” he promised.  “You just tell us where to be and when.  You still call the shots, but my pack members will have final say on in-the-moment decisions.”  

Nate was silent for a moment as he weighed his options.  Like Eliot, Nate wanted payback, probably even more than Eliot since the man killed his father.  Another sigh echoed over the phone line.  “I believe you have a hitter, but what about a grifter, or a thief?  And god knows we’re going to need a hacker.  Although I suppose we could use your wife for that.”

“I got it covered Nate,” Eliot replied.  “With people to spare.”

“Seriously?”  Nate sounded confused.  He hadn’t thought Eliot’s pack was that big.  

“Seriously,” Eliot stated.

“Alright then,” Nate’s voice was more optimistic than it was at the beginning of the call.  “I’ll have Hardison pull all the information on Dubenich and his new backer, then I’ll let you know what the plan is.”

“Sounds good,” Eliot said, then tapped his ear with the earpiece to let Cobi know to end the call.

The pack members that were at the house looked at Eliot expectantly.  As per usual, Quinn broke the silence.

“Dubenich?  Again?”  The Beta rhetorically asked.  “Can I just shoot him this time?”

“Tempting,” Eliot mumbled.  He then met Remy’s eyes.  “You up for playing thief?”  

The Cajun’s face lit up.  “Always,” he drawled.

“Clint, you up for playing hitter?”

“Sign me up,” the archer replied.  “I’ve been bored and could use the practice.”  In the middle of his response, the side door opened and Peter and Natasha entered the kitchen.

“Nat,” Eliot turned to her.  “You up for brushing off your grifter skills?”

A slow, slightly maniacal grin spread across her face.  “I thought you’d never ask.”

*~*~*

Just over a week later the pack was split up into two groups.  Darcy, Loki, Danny, and Billy would stay in Beacon Hills with Jane, Derek, and Markus, with Loki and Darcy in charge at Voin Enterprises; while Stiles, Remy, Clint, Natasha, Eliot, Quinn, Bucky, Steve, and Peter loaded into the Q2 jet and headed north to Portland to meet up with the Leverage team before they flew down to southern California for the job itself.

The jet touched down at a small local airport approximately half an hour later.  Stiles had rented and arranged for three full-sized SUVs to be in the parking lot.  The pack split up between the vehicles, climbed in and headed toward the pub.  The drive, with Eliot driving the lead vehicle, took just under ten minutes.  Because it was still morning and the pub wasn’t open yet, the three large SUVs pulled into parking spaces directly in front of the large windows to the restaurant.  

Eliot could see the Leverage team sitting at the bar drinking coffee when they pulled up.  Nate stood as the one red, one white, and one black Suburbans pulled up.  As the pack all exited the vehicles, Eliot watched as Hardison froze and actually dropped his full coffee mug that had been on the way to his mouth.  The Alpha could smell the pride emanating from his pack, and he knew that they could smell the same coming from him.

Quinn stepped up to the front door and held it open as the rest of the pack entered, Eliot in the lead.  The Alpha stopped in the center of the room and the pack spread out to either side of him, as was their way.  Even in civilian clothes the pack members exuded power and control.  The Leverage team may have been criminals, but they weren’t warriors like the pack members; they didn’t have the physical presence the new arrivals did.

“Nate,” Eliot greeted, crossing his arms across his chest.  The rest of the pack stood at their modified parade rest, looking intimidating as hell.

Nate shook his head then cleared his throat.  “Eliot.  Glad you and your friends could make it.”  Nate speaking broke the other three out of their stupor.

“Who are these guys, Eliot?” Parker demanded.

Eliot studied her, then Hardison, and finally Sophie before he answered.  “Allow me to introduce my family; my pack.”  Nate didn’t react since he understood that for a wolf their pack was their family.  But that statement caused a ripple of silent shock to run through the other three.  Eliot knew that it was about to get worse.

“You guys know Quinn.  This is Clint, Steve, James,” Eliot motioned to each one as he said their name.  He then motioned to the far end of the line on the other side of him and worked his way to the center.  “Down there is Natasha, her husband Peter, Remy, and you remember my my wife, Stiles.”

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Hardison asked, still unhappy.

“We’ve already been briefed on all of you,” Natasha answered.  

The Leverage crew wasn’t exactly certain how to take that.  There was obviously more to the new group than they’d been expecting.  Perhaps they shouldn’t have underestimated Eliot, nor his ability to put together an impressive team.  Though, to be honest, before the Leverage crew, Eliot hated working with other people.  He always preferred to work alone.  So a new team, a new family, threw them for a loop.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Nate clapped his hands together and rocked back and forth on his heels for a few seconds, before he all but ran toward the back room where the Leverage crew held their briefings.  The rest of Nate’s team hurried after him.  Eliot shook his head and rolled his eyes at their antics, then motioned for the pack to follow; which they did, at a much more sedate pace.

Once everyone was gathered in the main room Nate motioned for Hardison to start the briefing.  The hacker clicked a button on his remote and the screen at the front of the room came to life with a larger-than-life picture of Victor.

“This is Victor Dubenich,” Hardison started.  “Our first encounter with him was when he put us together to steal airplane designs from his competitor, then tried to kill us instead of paying us.  That didn’t end well for him, as he ended up in federal prison.  However, he apparently kept tabs on us.  He teamed up with Jack Latimer who ended up getting him out prison.  This was just after they used Nate’s father for a heist then killed him.

“Needless to say we tried to run game on them, but they were ready for us.  So we had to use other people, which is how we got to know Quinn.  That job ended with Latimer and Dubenich falling off a ledge into a river that fed into a dam.  Neither resurfaced, not their body nor their identity.  Until my facial recognition software caught sight of Dubenich a little over a week ago.  

“But since he knows us, and he knows everyone we’d call, we were at a standstill.  Then Nate called Eliot, and the rest is history.”  Hardison turned to look at the people that Eliot brought with him and noticed that they all looked bored.  “My presentation not exciting enough for you?”  He looked put out at this development.

“It’s not that it wasn’t exciting,” Stiles shrugged her shoulders apologetically.  “It’s just that we were waiting for some new information.  We already knew all of this.  Ever since Eliot asked us to help we’ve all been researching everything that we could find on Dubenich, up to and including how he survived the fall, where he’s been this entire time, and what he had for breakfast this morning.”

“We were just waiting for the plan,” Remy’s Cajun drawl shining through.  

“Wait,” Parker nearly shouted before Hardison could start the rant that he was building up to.  “Are you Remy LeBeau?  From New Orleans?”

“Do I owe you money?”  He tilted his head down and smirked slightly.  She shook her head no.  “Then Remy LeBeau I am.”  Parker stared at him for a moment before she turned a sharp glare at Eliot.

“How do you know Remy LeBeau?” she demanded.  There were certain things that every thief worth their salt knew, and one of those things is the LeBeaus in New Orleans and that they ruled the Thieves’ Guild there.

Eliot absent-mindedly shrugged a shoulder.  “He’s pack.”  He saw the dropped jaws of the Leverage crew but he didn’t want to elaborate.  Unless someone was part of a pack, there was no way to understand what it meant. 

“Can we get back to your wife?”  Hardison found an opening to bring the conversation back to the fact that these new people seemed to know more about his target than he did.  “How did you  _ allegedly _ find so much information about Dubenich?”

Stiles raised an eyebrow at his tone, then tilted her head to look up at her husband.  Eliot let out a heavy sigh as Stiles started to speak.  “We’ve had this discussion.  Remember?”  She gave Hardison a very pointed stare.  “When I came up before because you had a broken hand.  You even admitted that I was the better hacker.”

“I have no recollection of ever saying that,” Hardison argued.

“Παίξτε το στην οθόνη, παρακαλώ,” Stiles said in Greek as she tapped her ear ( _ Play it on the screen, please. _ )

The screen behind an aggravated Hardison lit up with images of the time that Stiles came up to help out the crew because their hacker had his right hand in a cast.  The pack and crew could clearly see Hardison splayed across the couch in the very room in which they were currently standing.  On screen Hardison tilted his head back so that he could peer over the back of the couch to where Stiles was seated at the counter.

“You are so much better than I am,” he slurred.  He then abruptly collapsed on the couch and started to snore.  The video cut out.

“That doesn’t count,” the real Hardison stated.  “I was high as a kite on painkillers.  Nothing said while on painkillers counts against the person.”

The pack chuckled at the disgruntled expression on the hacker’s face, which didn’t help his mood.

“Regardless,” Eliot interrupted before Hardison got a complex, “Let’s focus back on the plan to take down Dubenich once and for all.” 

“Yes, the plan.”  Nate outlined the plan for the con and takedown of Victor Dubenich.  While he did so, the pack began to feel more in their element and relaxed slightly.  As the pack relaxed, Eliot noticed that the Leverage crew subconsciously relaxed as well.

*~*~*

Once Nate had laid out the basic plan, with which the pack was highly impressed, the thirteen of them stowed the Leverage crew’s gear in the back of the SUVs, then they drove back to the airfield to take Q2.

“You have a private jet?” Nate asked from the front passenger seat of the SUV next to Eliot.  Eliot raised an eyebrow at him.

“You really shouldn’t assume things, Nate,” Eliot joked, with a quirk of his lips.  The mastermind kept quiet after that listening, and trying to understand, the conversation that was taking place in the back seat between Stiles, Hardison, with the occasional comment from Bucky.  By the time he managed to even figure out what they were discussing the group was pulling into the parking lot of the airport.

The pack assisted the crew carry their bags and gear from the Suburbans to the tarmac.  The Leverage crew actually stopped in their tracks as the back ramp began to lower.  The pack didn’t hesitate to enter their jet.  Eliot and Quinn actually laughed at the crew’s reaction and herded them aboard, took their bags and stored them in some of the compartments.  The bags of gear that the rest of the pack had carried on board had already been stored, and Nat and Clint were up in the cockpit preparing for take-off.

Once everyone was buckled in the jet began its vertical liftoff, which, like everything had so far, stunned the Leverage crew.  Once they were in the air and on auto-pilot Clint and Nat returned to the back and sat next to their mate. 

“It’ll be about an hour ‘til we land,” Nat told everyone.  The Leverage crew looked, and smelled, absolutely panicked.

“Who’s flying the plane?” Nate was the first to ask.

“It’s on auto-pilot,” Nat let them know.  Apparently that answer wasn’t good enough because all four of the Leverage crew members turned their gaze to Eliot.  

“I don’t know what else you want me to say,” he heaved.  “The jet is on auto-pilot.  I don’t know what about that is so difficult to understand.”  No one had any response to that.

“I thought it would be about three hour flight,” Sophie dug for information.

“If we were in a regular plane it would be,” Quinn chimed in.  “But this is Q2 and it goes a whole lot faster than a regular plane.”

“Q2?” She pressed.  “What happened to Q1?”

“Nothing,” Eliot reassured her.  “It’s just not as comfortable as this one.  We bought it from a federal agency so it had a much more militaristic feel to it.  Stiles and James tweaked the design and built this one, so it was made to be more comfortable.”

“Built it?” Hardison remembered that Stiles was a great hacker, but he didn’t know that she could redesign aircraft.  Even he wouldn’t have been able to do that.  They both nodded to agree that they did.  “Damn,” he whispered.

*~*~*

Bucky leaned over to Quinn and whispered, “Can I shoot him?”  Quinn just smirked as he remembered asking Eliot that exact question.

“Which one?”  Because, to be honest, Nate was starting to get just as annoying as Hardison.

“The one that won’t get his grubby hands off Stiles’ equipment.”  Quinn cocked his head and observed Hardison as he continued to touch her things.   Quinn noticed Stiles turn and glare at the other hacker, but he was oblivious to her, distracted by all her tech.

“If he doesn’t knock it off soon, you won’t have to ‘cause she’s going to do it first,” Quinn replied to Bucky.  Bucky eyed his daughter for a moment before he shrugged and sat back knowing that she had everything well in hand.

*~*~*

“This would be a lot easier if we could just kill him,” Peter stated about half way through the con.

“No killing, Peter,” Eliot sighed.  This was the third time the Alpha had had to remind his Beta.  But Eliot was starting to run out of reasons not to let Peter have his way.

*~*~*

By the end of the week, Victor Dubenich was dead.  And surprisingly it wasn’t Peter, or any of the pack or Leverage crew, that did it.  Victor had gotten so mentally turned around that he wound up turning on his new partner, and  _ he’s _ the one that shot and killed Dubenich.

The Leverage crew was just relieved that it was all over and that Victor couldn’t ever come after them again.  The pack wasn’t sure if they were more relieved that it was over, or they were more upset and let down that they didn’t have more of a hand in Victor’s end.

Regardless of how they all felt individually, it was done.  The pack was flying the Leverage crew back to Portland and then they were headed home to Beacon Hills to get back to their normal day-to-day lives.   



End file.
